


Love is a Sacrament

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Chair Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 17:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15562965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft on his knees, showing Greg how much he cares





	Love is a Sacrament

_Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling - Oscar Wilde_

Greg relaxed in his favorite chair, still dressed from work, though the top few buttons on his shirt were undone, reading glasses perched on his nose. He had one of Mycroft’s leather-bound books in his hands, feet stretched out towards the crackling fireplace. The reading lamp spotlighted him, the rest of the study shrouded in darkness.

Mycroft leaned against the doorframe, watching him. He’d showered and was wrapped in his silk housecoat, smiling softly at the scene before him. 

Greg looked up and gave him a matching smile, setting his glasses and book aside.

Holding Greg’s gaze, Mycroft crossed the room, stopping just in front of his lover. Greg licked his lips and let his legs fall open. Mycroft stepped into the vee, bowed his head, and gracefully slipped to his knees.

Mycroft listened to the hitch of Greg’s breath, as telltale a sign of his arousal as the bulge pressing against his trousers.

Reaching forward, Mycroft’s elegant fingers barely brushed against the fabric surrounding Greg’s cock. He deftly undid Greg’s belt and lowered his zip, the sound loud in the quiet room. Greg kept his hands on the arms of the chair. Mycroft could feel his heated gaze. 

Carefully he freed Greg’s cock, taking a moment to admire the perfection of it. Perhaps he waited a bit long, because Greg’s hand came off the arm of the chair and ran gently through his hair.

Mycroft pressed into the gentle touch, then leaned forward and licked a stripe up Greg’s cock. Greg shifted and settled in the chair, putting his hand aside again, letting Mycroft do what he wished.

Smiling slightly, Mycroft wrapped his mouth around Greg and bobbed his head slowly, looking up from beneath his eyelashes. Greg’s mouth parted as he watched him.

Mycroft closed his eyes and focused on his task, Greg heavy on his tongue. His lover gave a breathy moan as Mycroft took him nearly all the way down. Shifting his knees, he grasped Greg’s hips, relaxing his throat, taking him deep.

“Christ,” muttered Greg, one hand landing on Mycroft’s shoulder.

It was impossible to smile from this position, but Mycroft was pleased. He raised his head again and went back to slowly bobbing his head, feeling Greg thicken, the taste of precome on his tongue. When he glanced up again, he saw that Greg’s head had fallen back.

Under his hands Mycroft felt Greg flex, wanting to thrust up, wanting to chase his climax. Mycroft kept him in place, flicking his tongue around the head of his cock. Greg’s hand tightened on his shoulder and Mycroft went deep again, swallowing around him.

Greg groaned, hand shifting to the back of Mycroft’s neck. Mycroft began to bob his head faster, feeling the way Greg flexed in his mouth, close so close. Greg didn’t push, but desire was writ large in the strain of his body.

Mycroft focused on the head of his cock and that was all Greg needed. He groaned as he came, Mycroft swallowing all that he could, the bitter taste of his release like the sweetest ambrosia.

Finally, Mycroft knelt back, wiping his lips as he looked up at his spent lover. Greg gave him a sated smile, tucked himself away, and then reached down to pull Mycroft up into his lap. Mycroft kissed his throat, tasting the sweat that had pooled in his clavicle. 

Greg pulled the tie of Mycroft’s robe, letting it fall open. He took Mycroft in hand, giving him a firm stroke.

Mycroft tucked his head against Greg’s shoulder, moaning softly. Greg stroked him, knowing exactly how much pressure he needed, the right time to twist his wrist. Mycroft clung to Greg’s shirt, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he surrendered.

Greg wrapped his free arm around him, holding him close, whispering into his hair words that Mycroft couldn’t quite make out. Only a few more pulls and Mycroft was undone, shivering as he pulsed over Greg’s hand.

Mycroft opened his eyes as Greg wiped his hand on his trousers. No doubt they’d need a thorough cleaning after all this anyway. Greg tilted Mycroft’s head up and kissed him soundly, running his fingers through his hair.

There was nothing more perfect than this, cuddling together, both of them sated. The world was quiet and still, save the crackling fire. Soon enough they’d find their feet again and steal kisses as they made their way upstairs. Then it would be getting ready for bed and another night in one another’s arms. All as it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to beltainefaerie for the readover.


End file.
